Dancing for NonGentlemen
by suckersoprano
Summary: Rick has a date he needs to learn to dance for; he only knows one man who knows how to waltz and Craig is being surprisingly cooperative.


Craig calmly folded his hands into his lap, though he was seriously tempted to swivel his chair back around and pretend like no one had spoken to him. That was unfortunately not the case; not only was he speaking with someone, it was _Rick_ and he was asking for something. Something quite strange, even; it was unexpected from the dark haired man.

"So let me get this straight," he said softly, adjusting his glasses before staring back up at the man invading his work space, "You would like _me_ to teach you how to ballroom dance?"

"Sounds right," Rick confirmed, elbows resting over the edge of Craig's cubicle, "Look, Pinky, don't take this the wrong way or nothin', but you're the only guy I know who knows even a little 'bout any of that. I need t'know how to dance before tomorrow night or 'm pretty boned. Got some weird ball thing with a lady friend. Bad 'nough I gotta wear a damn suit, but she said somethin' bout dancin', too."

Craig sighed; it was true, Craig knew the steps and would find it easy enough to teach the other man how to dance without watching his feet after an hour or so. Even Rick could learn a simple waltz step. He considered repayment bargains or anything of that nature, but simply waved his hands.

"I'll do it," he agreed, shrugging.

"I can make it up to ya—wait, what?" Rick pulled his elbows off of the walls dividing their workspaces, "Jus' like that?"

"Yes, it will be worth it to prove that I am far more right than you ever say I am, far more _useful_ than you would normally admit. It will also be a challenge to instruct your ungraceful, brutish nature to be more… genteel," Craig turned his chair back to his desk, "Come back here when the shift is done."

"Thanks, four-eyes—I mean, Craig," Rick sounded shocked, but pleased as he walked away; enough to be more polite than he normally might.

It was just a matter of time before he would regret agreeing to this, but a deal was a deal, even if Craig spoke much sooner than he normally might. He wasn't a man who regularly followed his gut instinct, but this feeling was saying this endeavor would be profitable in some manner. It wasn't like him to go back on his word, anyway; he'd already agreed. He went back to work and nearly forgot about the promise until the shift was over and Rick was right back at his cubicle, leaning over the walls watching him until Craig noticed with a surprised jump.

"Shift's over, 'teach," Rick grinned, "Ready?"

It seemed the Craig forgot that 'when the shift is done' meant something entirely different to Craig than it did to Rick. He'd planned on working late; he didn't want Rick hanging about his cubicle while he waited. So regardless of his original late work intention, he saved the file he was working on and gathered his coat, waving the other man to follow him.

"I'll teach you at my place," he pulled on his jacket while he walked out of the building.

"Your place?" Rick chuckled and trailed behind him with his hands shoved into his pockets, "Well hell, s'goin' a little fast for ya. Don'tcha think I oughtta take y'out first?"

The raucous laughter behind him made Craig's shoulders tense up. He paused in his walking and turned around with a deep frown. If this was a _joke_, Craig was going to have none of it.

"I agreed to this with the assumption that you would be _polite_; if you'd like to take you last-minute needs _elsewhere_…," Craig fumed, raising one finger to poke Rick in the chest, "I don't _have_ to help you, if I may remind you."

Rick's fingers circled Craig's wrist and he rolled his eyes, "'m jus' playin' around with ya, don't need t'get so uptight 'bout it. Thought it might be more fun relaxed like that, shit."

Craig snatched back his hand with a huff, "Well, let's get this over with."

With his feelings on the matter very clearly stated, they drove separately to Craig's house, all while listing off all of the reasons why he shouldn't have agreed to this, first on his list being that Rick was far too obnoxious to learn something even somewhat refined. He wordlessly pulled into his driveway and pried his white-knuckled grip off of his steering wheel. There was quite a bit of controlled breathing to bring the stress back down as he walked up to his door. Rick wasn't too far behind him and he let them both into the house; the living room in front was large enough to accommodate some simple lessons. Rick shut the door behind them while Craig moved around the room, flipping on lights.

"You can leave your coat on that chair," he waved at an armchair near the door.

Rick peeled his jacket off and looked around; it was nice, ridiculously clean, but really nice, not that he expected much less from Craig, given his tastes, "Nice place y'got."

Craig hung his own coat up and moved to a small stereo with just a hum in response. He flipped through a small stack of CDs before carefully removing one and setting it in the player. He picked up a remote and put it in his shirt pocket; he moved to the center of the room and motioned for Rick to come closer with a wave of his hands. Rick did as he was told and Craig immediately took hold of his arms and began to position him. One of arm was tucked around Craig's waist, high-up on his back in the proper place while he moved Rick's hand and placed his own on top of it. His own left hand was placed on Rick's shoulder.

"This is the proper position for closed position, most often used in the waltz, which is what I'll be teaching you," Craig said, taking on a teaching, almost lecturing tone.

Rick shifted a little bit, uncomfortable with the very stiff positioning, but he didn't argue; Craig continued, "I'm under the assumption that your company is far more aware of ballroom steps than you are, so I will assume her place and attempt to teach you to lead, understood?"

"Yeah, got it," Rick said, straightening. It wasn't too hard to stretch the imagination; Craig was slender and much shorter than him. The only thing stopping him from really letting that thought run away with him was the sharp, teacher-like tone in Craig's voice and the stiff way he reacted to being held. Now that Rick thought about it, Craig did tense up just slightly now that they were closer. He chalked it up to the guy being touchy about his personal bubble and something about stiff boring ballroom dancing; in the end, something to shrug off.

"It's a fairly simple box step to begin with, follow me," Craig said, gently leading Rick forward as he stepped back.

Almost immediately, Rick's eyes dropped down to his feet in an attempt to copy what Craig was doing with his. Unsteadily, he managed to follow Craig's steps after the several times he repeated them. He glanced up with a half-smile at Craig's patient expression before looking back down to practice.

"Think I got it," he said, still staring at his feet.

Craig moved the hand off of Rick's shoulder and pulled out the stereo remote, flipping the music on. Something retro-sounding with violins and a soft male voice started to play; it sounded wistfully romantic, making Rick look up with a bit of confusion before remembering that most slow dancing songs were going to be like that. It was just a little… weird, considering the company. Craig didn't seem at all bothered and replaced the remote in his pocket, hand resting against his shoulder yet again.

"Can you hear the count?" he asked, subtly nodding his head to a three count along with the music.

"The what now?"

"The count, you can hear it in the percussive strings and the snare," Craig stated, like that solved the problem.

Rick stared at him blankly; Craig huffed and began to move, "One, two, three," he counted along, pulling Rick to the forward steps much faster than he was used to.

The counting was completely beyond Rick at this point, where the hell was Craig even getting the numbers and why? He did his best to follow along, but ending up stepping right on Craig's foot, causing them to break apart with a muttered swear from Craig.

"Shit! 'm sorry!" Rick said, grasping Craig's elbow in a fumbling attempt to help.

"It's fine, I'm fine," he said, brushing Rick's grip off of him, "I have an idea."

As annoyed as he seemed, he moved right back into position without much thought about his foot. The song was restarted and Craig's left hand tapped out the beat on Rick's shoulder. Okay, that at least _felt_ right with the music, but why it mattered to the movement, Rick still couldn't divine.

"It is the beat the song follows, it is three-four time, three beats for every measure," Craig said, tapping the beat on his shoulder continuously, "You'll complete one box for every three beats, alright?"

Rick nodded and Craig began to move again, still tapping the beat on Rick's shoulder. It was just a little bit easier to understand now that he knew the purpose behind the beat; Rick managed to complete a few of the required boxes before he noticed Craig's mouth moving. It wasn't to the counting, because the words changed the shape of his mouth. The hand on Craig's back pulled him very, very gently closer and he leaned his head in closer to listen.

Craig was mumbling the words to the song while teaching Rick to dance, "_It was fascination, I know, seeing you alone with the moonlight above, then I touch your hand and the next moment, I kiss you. Fascination turned to love," _he crooned, almost too quiet to hear, effortlessly moving to the music even while occupied.

After a few moments of listening to Craig's quiet voice had him completely distracted from the task at hand and he managed to get his foot around the blonde's ankle. Both of the smaller man's hands gripped Rick as he almost tumbled backward, but Rick's new grip on his back didn't have him going far. It was only then that Craig noticed how close Rick had gotten, completely unaware of why. A little bit of color flooded his face as he righted himself and attempted to figure out the tripping problem and ignore the closeness.

He cleared his throat, "Ahem, well, you seem to be doing well if you manage to concentrate."

Rick's mouth twitched into a grin ever so slightly, "Y'ain't a bad teacher."

Was it just Craig or was Rick now full on _staring?_ Craig shifted self-consciously under his intense gaze and flipped the music back to the beginning. A few more tries and Rick managed to complete the steps without tripping; a half an hour later, he wasn't looking at the floor any longer. An hour into the lessons, Craig even managed to teach him the turn without much difficulty. He finally relaxed at some point along the line, making it easier for both of them. Finally, Craig sat down on his couch and shut off the music.

"You'll do fine, that's all I can teach you tonight," Craig said, wiping his brow with the back of his hand, "You didn't need much instructing, I was convinced you wouldn't be able to dance at all."

Rick scoffed and put his hands on his hips in mock offense, "Hey, 'm not a bad dancer, jus' not all stuffy, like I needed t'know."

Craig nearly smiled and dramatically rolled his eyes, "Really, you don't have to prove yourself to me."

"Y'don't believe me, fine," Rick moved forward and snagged the stereo remote from Craig and tossed it aside to free up his hands.

Before Craig could really argue, Rick snagged his wrist and pulled him out of the couch, expertly spinning him from the couch to nearly trip right against Rick's chest. He pushed off of him with a bit of an indignant expression, but Rick just turned and dipped him very low, making him cling to his shirt with a yelp. Once righted, Rick was chuckling and once Craig pushed his bangs out of his face, he actually did, too. Maybe it wasn't so bad trying to teach the big oaf how to be a gentleman, the thought idly flickered by his thoughts as both of Rick's hands were on his lower back. A gentle pull had Craig's hands on the dark-haired man's shoulders and his face dangerously close to his chest.

Suddenly the atmosphere went from relaxed and almost fun to something… heavier, more intimate. Their hands clasped, probably something of Rick's doing that he didn't realize, and Craig couldn't remember his arm moving around Rick's shoulders. Between them, there was an idle tune hummed while Rick very slowly rocked them from foot to foot. At any other time, Craig would have protested that this wasn't really dancing, but being pressed up against Rick's chest with their faces nearly brushing the other… Rick was humming something mostly tuneless, but it made his chest rumble pleasantly and Craig noticed that he smelled like a day's work and a faint bit of cologne. It was all very distracting; too distracting to be pedantic.

It was impulsive, like a lot of things Rick did, he wasn't even sure why he had the blonde in his arms right now, shifting his weight in a sad attempt at dancing. Things had gotten a little funny here and he couldn't help but think it was kind of his fault. Not that he minded; Craig fit nicely against him and the way he tensed up wasn't so much uncomfortable as slightly nervous. Now that the smaller man was a little relaxed and not so… defensive, he wasn't bad company. Hearing that little bit of a tune crooned by him earlier had an interesting effect on him, a positive one. Craig's fingers suddenly brushed the nape of his neck and Rick pressed him a little closer.

Stupid, impulsive things seemed to be the theme for the night; pulling him closer had skin brushing skin. Rick turned his head at nearly the same time as Craig and considering the circumstances, he did about the dumbest thing he could have: he kissed him. They both lingered with the contact, caught up in the moment before breaking apart with a gasp from Craig and a swear from Rick. Immediately, they were on opposite sides of the room, Rick pulling his coat on and Craig frantically fussing with anything he could have to distract himself.

"Thanks for th'help," Rick muttered; Craig only nodded in response while putting the CD away.

Craig didn't watch as Rick let himself out, but he did press the back of his hand to his mouth in confusion. Just _how_ had things gotten to _that_ point? With a shuddering breath, he shut the lights off in the house and went to bed without even bothering to get undressed. It was hard to fall asleep, but his mind was completely off of his clothing; there were much more pressing things to think of.

The next day, Craig was a little bit grouchy. He hadn't slept well and he pointedly avoided Rick, even though they worked somewhat near each other. That small trace of tranquility he had was disturbed and the excuse that he'd lost an opportunity to force the big lug to leave him alone was completely lost. If he were a touch more honest, he would remember he didn't have such a plan beforehand; this was all a _gut instinct_. Last time Craig ever listened to one of those. Even if he attempted to avoid the man, Craig could still hear Rick talking over the thin walls of the office. He was chatting to coworkers about his date in the evening and it had an unhappy ball of stress gathering in Craig's stomach. That shouldn't bother him, it should be good that he was going off and leaving him alone, but…

Excuses were made all damn day to himself and he finally went home on time for once. He wasn't concentrated on his work, so it was pointless to stick around. The living room light wasn't even turned on; he immediately bypassed it for the kitchen for a quick meal and just a glass of wine. Better to desert old, bad memories by simply not being around the setting or anything else that reminded him, he figured. It didn't take him long to have a pleasant buzz going, he had his button-down half-buttoned and his tie undone; he was slowly getting more comfortable at home and with himself. A sharp knock at the door interrupted him putting away the rest of the bottle of wine. He left it on the counter before opening the door with a slightly grumpy frown.

It was quickly replaced with an expression of shock at the view that greeted him. Rick was standing there in some fancy looking tuxedo that he didn't look too comfortable in; he was waving to two women, one dark haired and the other with pale, pale blonde, in expensive looking gowns and an orange convertible as they sped off, shouting thanks and well wishes. Craig blinked a couple of times before reaching up to clamp his shirt closed out of fit of modesty and nerves.

"Wh… what are you doing here?" Craig nearly spat with much more venom than he intended.

Rick finally turned to see him and smiled a little sheepishly, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Uh, well, told my date that I was real sorry, but I kinda had my mind on someone else, y'know? Didn't think it was fair t'lead'er on like that, but she goes'n tells me she only invited me t'make her ex jealous."

Craig stared, unsure of what to say. He was dumbstruck at the implications here, but he was unwilling to make assumptions.

"They gave me a ride here, can't be too pissed at'em, I guess," Rick offered, mouth curling into a wider smile.

"Who are you talking about," Craig said flatly, "You had some sort of important event and you abandon it to come _here_?"

"Funny, thought if I said I had someone on my mind, y'might be happy, jump up 'n mebbe try'n kiss me, like I did last night," Rick shook his head with a chuckle.

Still not sure, Craig's mouth hung open slightly, though. His heart jumped to his throat, too.

"Weird, innit?" Rick took a step into the doorframe, "Didn't think that'd happen either, didja?"

Implications and assumptions be damned, Craig thought, grabbing a hold of Rick's jacket and pulling him down into a much more deliberate kiss. The door was shut and the bottle of wine brought back out; there was a lot more talking done that night than dancing, but at some point, when it got late, Rick fumbled with the stereo system again, putting on a song, any song.

"C'mon, 'm all dressed up for nothin'," he extended a hand to Craig, "Gonna get my dancin' in with th'guy I wanted, instead."

Shyly, Craig accepted, placing his hand on Rick's; he tugged him close again while they slowly moved to the music. Less dancing was done, yes, but during that dancing, there was far more kisses exchanged than lessons. It appeared that Craig's gut instinct was, for once, very right and he couldn't be more grateful for that.


End file.
